A Jen Too Many

You can blame this one on my sister.

1. My PDA
I went for years without a PDA, never feeling the need for one. And then my husband upgraded to a cellphone/PDA combination and I decided to appropriate his old one. I'd been eyeing it for awhile and had started thinking it would be a pretty handy thing to have around.

Thus is a monster created.

I actually wore out the first one I had, and insisted on getting another one of the same model, a Palm M130. It's old, but the faceplates are interchangeable!* And since it's so old I can pick up cool accessories really cheaply, like this portable keyboard that I can keep in my purse for those moments when writerly inspiration strikes. (Cannot write with the stylus. Must have my keyboard. My thoughts go faster than my fingers when I can't type.)

I go everywhere with my PDA It's either in my hand or in my pocket. Although I do tend to put it down in absent-minded moments and then forget where, which leads to me wandering around the house, searching frantically, begging my family to tell me if they know where it is. When my first one broke I practically went into withdrawal and when my second one got dropped in water last night I had to work hard to keep a firm grip on myself. (But it dried out by this morning, and it works, it works!!)

I do have to admit, though, the biggest attraction it holds for me, and what I use it for the most is

2. Ebooks
I discovered ebooks before I discovered my PDA, but as delightful as it was to find all sorts of free books out there, it drove me crazy that I had to sit at my computer to read them. Not a problem anymore! 90% of my PDA use is as an ebook reader. That's why it goes everywhere with me - I'm constantly reading. (Note to self: no more reading while washing dishes one handed.)

Not that I don't have other forms of entertainment. I'm thoroughly hooked on

3. Netflix
I have to admit, our subscription to Netflix is almost entirely for me. For years I never went to movies, and I love movies! Going to a movie when you have a nursing infant, however, is not a fun thing to do. I only tried it once. It ended ... poorly. (Apologies to everyone who was wondering what the crazy woman with the crying baby was doing at The Lord of the Rings.)

It does take two hands, but no more, to count the number of times I've been to a movie in a theatre since Oldest Girl Child was born. I just wait for them to come out on DVD.

The problem with Netflix, though, is that it preyed on my fascination with

4. Loki
I have had a Loki-crush since I was a little girl reading Norse mythology. The other gods were interesting, but it was the stories about Loki that really made me sit up and take notice. As the years went by I read everything I could find that featured Loki. My favorites were the stories that represented him as misunderstood. It's kind of difficult to justify a crush on the Norse god of evil, after all.***

Netflix ties into this because they kept suggesting a series called Mythical Detective Loki Ragnarok to me. Every time I logged in, there they were, in my face, pushing Loki, daring me to try it in spite of the fact that it was

5. Anime
I used to think anime was so stupid. I was familiar with Pokemon, because The Boy Child was heavily into it, and I thought it was cute enough, but, my heavens, the style was so annoying, and couldn't they draw people that actually moved, instead of just using one picture per conversation?

No. No. Never. I would never watch anime without the impetus of a child with whom to watch it.

But ... it was Loki. I succumbed. I rented the first disc. I rented the second disc. I upped our subscription so that I could get the rest of the discs in the series without waiting. I stayed up late watching them, was grouchy with family members who interfered with my watching them, and when I finished the series I sighed with satisfaction and then started looking for more great series.

Princess Tutu? The duck, who turns into a ballet student, who turns into the superhero ballerina princess? Sooo much better than you would think from the description. Really. Not stupid at all. And a really wonderful, sweet

6. Romance
I adore love stories. I first encountered romance novels in high school, where they had a huge display in the middle of the library, chock full of ancient Harlequin romances. Lots of dominant men, stupid women, and fighting as a substitute for passion. What was a 15 year old girl to do? I gave up science fiction, I gave up fantasy, I gave up mysteries, and I got scolded by my teachers for rotting my brain. I didn't care - it was looove! Not to mention hot guys and a discreet amount of heavy breathing that never went beyond searing kisses.****

Even now I love a good romance novel. There's a fairy tale quality about them that appeals to me, especially when life isn't going well. A nice, uncomplicated happily ever after can really lighten my mood at those times. It's hard to find any, though, that don't embarrass me. I really do prefer not to know all the, ahem, details.

Plug for a friend - Cari Hislop - books that are quirky, funny, romantic, and worth

7. Staying up late
I hate sleeping. There are so many interesting things I could be doing instead. Especially since I started this mommy gig. I need alone time the way other people need air, and the only way to get it is to stay up late. If I get up early, so does everyone else. But if I can stay up until they've all fallen asleep, then I can have hours to myself.

Unfortunately, this leaves me pretty sleep-deprived, since my children never let me experience

8. Sleeping in
Oh, lost heaven of waking up without an alarm! Sleeping in anymore means getting up at 7 a.m. instead of 6 or 6:30. To think I used to regularly sleep in until noon on Saturdays when I was a teenager, and resented my parents rousting me out of bed any earlier. Dad always used to call me Sleeping Beauty, which just infuriated me.

Now, on Saturdays, it isn't just my kids dragging me out of bed, it's

9. Yard sales
Hee hee hee. *rubs hands together*

OK. I'll admit, I have to watch myself. I bought a bowl with a hole in the bottom once, just because it was only five cents. What can I say? It was marked down from 25 cents!

On the other hand, I get fantastic stuff, for almost nothing. Especially children's clothing. It's getting harder now, because the girls are getting into the ages where kids tend to wear things out, but every time I find a nice pair of jeans for 50 cents, it's worth the gas spent jaunting around town that day. And I got two complete sets of matching twin bedding for $5 last spring, which is making the girls' bedroom oh! so cute!

Of course, all this stuff just feeds my passion for

10. Organization
You would think this was a good quality. Hah! Well, it just all depends, doesn't it? Me, I am the Mad Hatter of organization. "Move down, move down!"

I tend to accumulate too much stuff (like fabric) and then I have to figure out what to do with it to keep it from taking over the house. So I organize it. I organize my frighteningly large collection of Tivo'd shows I mean to watch someday. I organize my To-Do lists. I organize my food storage. I organize the clothing one child has grown out of and the other child hasn't grown into.

I especially do this when life is starting to feel out of control. Not that I actually accomplish anything. I don't get rid of anything. It doesn't make anything else in life better. In fact, it uses time I should be spending on more important matters. But, it makes me feel better and I wind up with the illusion of some sort of control over things. I might not have working air conditioning, but by gum! I can find any ebook I own, all organized according to author.
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*I found a place online that was selling them for five cents each, so now I have seven, two of them red.**

**It's bright and cheerful. Also easy to find when I forget where I put my PDA.

***Can I help it if I find Trickster types attractive? You have to be smart to be a Trickster, and intelligence is mmmmm, yum. Dearest - I admit it. I married you for your mind.

****Very important since boys still made me fairly skittish. Non-threatening, that was the keyword, if I'd been self-aware enough to put it into words. All my crushes were on boys that looked like they were still pre-adolescent.